Blue Skies
by Fanficaholics Anon
Summary: "This is the last song that I write while I'm still in love with you,  This is the last song that I write while you're even on my mind.  Because it's time to leave those feelings behind.  Oh because blue skies are calling,


**Title:** Blue Skies

**Penname(s):**

**Fandom:** Twilight

**Pairing(s):** Edward & Bella

**Picture #:** 81

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer

**Submitted for the 100 Pictures — An Anon Fanfic Competition****  
****Please check out the other entries here: http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/100_Pictures_An_Anon_Fanfic_Competition_Entries/83603/**

"_This is the last song that I write while I'm still in love with you,_

_This is the last song that I write while you're even on my mind._

_Because it's time to leave those feelings behind._

_Oh because blue skies are calling,_

_But I know that it's hard."_

_- __**'Blue Skies' **__Noah & The Whale_

"Please, Bella?" begs Marcus.

Bella chews on her bottom lip as her brow furrows. "I don't know, Marcus. I don't think I'm really in the right head space after...everything that's happened."

Marcus sighs quietly. "I know, Bells. But I'm talking about a tropical location, a great script and decent budget. I think this would be a perfect opportunity to get back in the game. And I don't want anyone else but you."

The other end of the line is silent, and Marcus can feel he's breaking her resolve. She's thinking of sun, and warm sand and being a million miles from where she is, and he knows it.

"Anyway, you wouldn't miss my directorial debut, would you?"

Marcus' wife throws a baleful glare at him, shaking her head. He knows he shouldn't have used that line, but he's desperate and it's all he has left. Still shaking her head, Jane grabs the phone from his hand, batting away his hands as he tries to get it back.

"Bella?" she says and the familiarity of her voice wraps around Bella, comforting and aching all at once.

"Hi, Jane."

"It's been so long, sweetie. Why haven't you come to visit? You know you could have come here after everything with James."

Bella squeezes her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall. She swallows hard before answering. "I know, Jane. I just...Emmett's been taking good care of me here."

"Well, we've missed you. Emmett too," laments Jane. "Is Marcus trying to pressure you into doing this movie?"

"I just don't think I'm ready, yet."

"Well," says Jane. "I'm not trying to force you either, but you need to get back to work. Marcus is right; you need to get out of Melbourne. Why don't you stop up here first? I know Seth and Emily would love to see you."

It's been so long since Bella has seen Seth and Emily, and the thought of spending some time with them makes her smile.

Bella sits quietly, listening intently as Jane talks about her kids.

"Emily is at _that _age. She won't wear anything pink, or orange, or purple, or..."

She stops talking suddenly, and Bella can hear a small voice in the background.

"No, Seth, you can't have chocolate," says Jane. "Because it's almost dinner time," she continues. "Marcus, I said no! Oh, Bella, I'm going to have to go; I have to throttle my husband. I'll talk to you soon."

Jane passes the phone back to a waiting Marcus. "So?"

"Fine," Bella whispers with a long sigh. "When do we start?"

Marcus can't stop the huge smile from appearing. "Two weeks. I'll have Jackie send you through the script and all the details."

"Uh huh," she replies. "Where are we going? And how much are you paying me? And who's doing this with me - if this is another cheesy rom-com with Jacob bloody Black, Marcus, so help me..."

He laughs at Bella's impatience. "No. No, Black. I haven't ironed out the details for the male lead yet, but I have a few options up my sleeve. We'll do most of the shooting in Tahiti - there's a beautiful little island there, completely private and perfect. You'll love it."

A smile tugs at Bella's lips. "I've never been to Tahiti."

A call wait signal beeps on the line, and Marcus glances at the display. "Oh, Bells, I gotta go. I've got another call coming in."

"Okay," she replies.

"I'll talk to you soon. The kids say hello, too. And tell that brother of yours to call us!"

"I will. Tell Seth and Em I said hello. I'll talk to you later, Marcus."

"Love you, Bells."

"Love you, too. Bye."

A sudden rattling at the front door startles Bella, and she lurches off the couch, reaching for the bat under the couch.

"You know, you just leave the front door unlocked," booms a voice from the foyer. "Anyone could just walk in," says Emmett as he carries in bags of groceries, setting them on the kitchen counter.

Bella holds a shaking hand to her chest, her heart hammering painfully as she tries to shut out the barrage of images flooding her mind.

"Bella?"

Emmett reaches out, his hand resting on her shoulder gently, snapping out of her trance.

"I'm okay," she says, shaking her head as she takes a deep breath.

He frowns, wrapping her in his thick arms. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."

She wraps her arms as far as she can around his wide frame. "I know."

They wander into the kitchen and Bella unpacks the bags as Emmett puts the food in the pantry.

"Oh," she says as she leans into the refrigerator. "I've got a job coming up."

Emmett spins to face Bella, his eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Bella answers, smiling at his enthusiasm. "I start in a few weeks. It's Marcus's film."

Emmett's eyebrows almost shoot off the top of his head. "I can't believe he's finally doing it! That's amazing. Where's he shooting?"

"Tahiti. I think I might fly up a bit early and stay with him and Jane for a few days."

"Tahiti?" he says with a low whistle. "Sounds nice. Hey, maybe I'll come up and stay with Jane and Marcus, too. I've got a few weeks before the band goes on tour."

Bella's eyes light up. "Really?"

Emmett still loves the way he can make her eyes light—the eyes that seem to have lost their sparkle of late. As her brother, Emmett is her protector and savior—the only light in her day. But the weight of this has worn on Emmett, and he is tired, ready for this burned to be lifted from his shoulders.

"Sure! We'll sun bake, and go down to Manly for the day, and you can perv on the life guards!"

Bella rolls her eyes. "Come on, Emmett."

"What? There's nothing wrong with some harmless ogling. Maybe a summer romance."

She stifles a laugh as she lifts a tray from the oven. "I'll try to remember that."

Two days later the trip is planned. Rachel - Bella's manager - has booked plane tickets for Sydney and Tahiti. She's organised transportation, booked the hotel and even bought Bella a new bathing suit.

There's no turning back now.

Jane is at the airport in Sydney to greet Bella and Emmett as they arrive.

"It's been too long," whispers Jane to Bella as they hug each other tightly.

"I know. I'm sorry," says Bella into Jane's thick blond hair.

Breaking the embrace, Jane looks Bella up and down pointedly. "You look like shit."

Bella brushes her hair out of her face self-consciously. "Thanks."

Jane shrugs, looping an arm through Bella's. "Never mind, the island sun will put some colour in your cheeks. Emmett! Get the bags already!"

The airport is relatively calm and they are only stopped once for photos. Luckily, Bella has the good sense to wear a pair of black glasses that cover most of her face.

There are a handful of photographers outside, and Emmett stays close to Bella, but even with an obscured view of her, they still snap away with incessant flashes and clicking.

At least, they aren't yelling at her anymore.

Bella Swan's absence from the social scene was big news to begin with. There were rumours of course; the magazines fed on their breakup like vultures picking at a decaying carcass. But they soon grew tired of waiting outside of her apartment building, and after extended months of no sightings they just stopped trying all together. Her name dropped from the papers and magazines; her picture replaced by the newest starlet.

Emmett helps Bella into a big black SUV before he loads up the boot with the luggage, stopping to sign a few autographs for fans before he slides in next to Bella.

The late summer sun sets in the west, staining the sky in pinks and reds as Bella sits at Marcus and Jane's dinner table, stuffed full of the lavish dinner they prepared.

"Dinner was amazing, Jane," says Emmett, sighing contentedly.

"Well, you ate enough for three people," remarks Jane, laughing.

"So, Marcus, have you found your leading man yet?" asks Bella, fiddling errantly with a napkin.

Marcus pushes his chair back, settling himself comfortably. "I have. And I think you two are going to be perfect together. In the movie, I mean."

"Well," asks Emmett impatiently. "Who is it?"

"Edward Cullen," says Marcus with a flourish, obviously proud of himself.

"Jesus, Marcus!" squeals Emmett with surprise. "He's a big name, how the fuck did you swing that?"

Marcus pretends to act offended as he looks at Emmett. "Who do you think I am? Hello? Tony award winner sitting right here," he says poking himself in the chest. "I met him at last year's Oscars. We got talking and he's a lovely guy. He and Bella will get along well."

"I thought he did tween movies?" says Bella, ripping the napkin into shreds on the table.

"He does, well, he did. He's looking for something with more substance, and I think he'll be perfect. He's lovely, kind of quiet, a real old soul. He's been lying low apparently - bad break-up. But then that's just what the gossip magazines are saying. I really haven't had a chance to speak to him in a while."

Bella nods. She's heard of Edward Cullen. She hasn't seen any of his movies, but she's heard all about them. She's pretty sure she's supposed to be feeling something: excitement, concern, eagerness, anything.

But all she feels is worn out, like elastic pulled too tightly - just waiting to snap.

"Jesus Christ. They're fucking everywhere," he mutters as he pulls his hat down further, trying to disguise himself as the cab pulls up at the airport.

The paps swarm the cab as he opens the door. There's at least a dozen of them, if not more.

"Edward!" they yell, as they push each other, jostling and shoving, vying for a shot.

"Where's Tanya?" they yell, even though they know the answer.

"How are you doing? Why did you break up? Was there someone else? What about the rumours about her and Laurent Smith?"

It's non-stop: they yell, they click, they shove. He wants to stop and yell at them; he wants to shove them back and smash their cameras on the ground.

They follow him until the airport security removes them, but even then he feels eyes on him, watching his every move.

"Oh, there's Edward Cullen," they whisper behind him. "I heard she broke his heart, that's why he's hiding out."

He wonders if they know he can hear them.

"Really? I thought he was gay!"

It isn't until he's buckled into first class that he finally feels some sort of relief, even if he is settling in for a long flight. At least it's private, and there's a tropical destination on the other end.

There are only four hours left of his flight when he wakes up, his neck aching from sleeping in an awkward position.

He scrubs his face roughly. He dreamt about her again, only this time, when she told him there was someone else, Ashton Kutcher jumped out from behind the couch, telling him he'd been Punk'd. They all laughed, and Tanya was there - right there, and not off fucking some multi-millionaire director.

Thinking about her makes him sick; its rips and twists in his stomach. Her words echo in his ears: "There's someone else," she says over and over. And he hates her, so goddamn much. She ripped his heart out, smashing it into a million pieces for the whole fucking world to see.

He orders an orange juice as he pulls open the file that Marcus sent him.

He flips through the script. He's read it a dozen times and the margins are full with notes and scribbling's, random thoughts and ideas.

Behind the script is the information about his hotel and transport, along with a few photos of the cast that Marcus has put together for him. His memory is like a sieve with names.

Edward flips through the file quickly, but stops when a pair of brown eyes catch his.

He pulls the photo from under the paper clip and looks at her. Isabella Swan.

_She's beautiful._

He realises he's been staring when the stewardess calls his name again, his orange juice in her hand.

He thanks her and his eyes instantly move back to the picture. She's stunning; there's no doubt about it: the long dark hair and alabaster skin, all peaches and cream, as his mother would say. Her smile is warm and familiar, like home, and he aches for London, for solitude, for company, something, anything to make the burn in his chest subside.

He slides the shutter up on the window, watching as the plane passes over tiny green islands dotted among the blue ocean.

Tahiti will be a chance for him to regroup, to get his shit together and his head right.

The concierge is polite as she checks Edward into his private bungalow, and he can't help but notice her overly sweet smile as she practically undresses him with her eyes. It makes him uncomfortable, the attention. Even here, he can't get away from it.

"And here is your room key, Mr. Cullen. I hope you enjoy your stay with us. If you need _anything_," she purrs, "my name is Amber, and you can contact me at the front desk."

Edward nods in thanks as the bellboy takes his luggage.

The resort is beyond amazing, it's pure five star luxury: spacious, comfortable and most importantly - private.

He rips off his beanie, stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans as the boy leads him through the resort to a large private bungalow.

He tips the boy well, and only minutes after he is left alone, he is face down on the bed, asleep.

The sun is hot, but it's a welcome feeling on her pale skin. She's wearing the swim suit that Rachel bought her. She tries to forget how much the ridiculous thing cost. For four small scraps of material, it was obscene.

"It's Bella, isn't it?" a man asks, and she nods, trying to ignore him as politely as possible.

"I thought so," he continues as he takes a seat beside her. "I'm Tyler. I saw you in the lobby earlier. You're much shorter in person; you look taller in your movies."

He sits beside her for a while, chatting and even offering her a drink, which she kindly declines.

He looks at her for too long, his eyes travel languorously across her body, making her feel exposed and vulnerable.

"Well," Bella says, stuffing her things into her beach bag. "It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay."

He stands up too, moving beside her, placing a hand on her arm lightly. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

She looks down at his hand, at his fingers curled around her bicep. Her breathing speeds up, and her instinct to run kicks in. She knows he's just being polite, and that she shouldn't be reacting this way, but her body has other thoughts.

Shrugging out of his hand gently, Bella takes a step back. "Maybe. I better go."

She almost runs back to her room and her hands shake as she unlocks her door.

Sinking to the floor, Bella hugs her knees to her chest, resting her head on her knees.

A knock on the door startles her again, but it's Marcus' voice on the other side. "Bells? We're going down to the restaurant to have dinner. Are you coming?"

She tries to stop her voice from shaking as she answers "Ye..Yes, sure. I'll meet you guys there."

It takes almost half an hour for Bella to stand up again, and after a shower she feels almost normal again.

She stands in front of the mirror, looking at her gaunt frame. Her body used to be more. There used to be curves, soft and feminine. Her collarbone sticks up and she can almost count all of her ribs. Her hips that were once round and full are flat and punctuated with protruding bones.

She grabs the first thing she sees on the top of her bag, a white sundress, and slips it on. It hangs on her slightly, but at least it covers her lacking frame.

A loud knock wakes Edward suddenly and he stumbles to the door. He swings it open and behind it stands Marcus with a six pack of beer and a huge smile.

"Are you the welcome party?" says Edward, his voice rough with sleep.

"Well, I did have strippers arranged, but they got lost," jokes Marcus as he steps inside.

Edward chuckles as they shake hands warmly.

"It's good to see you, Edward."

"You too, mate."

Marcus can't help but notice the difference in Edward since he saw him last. Suffice to say, the last time was under different circumstances - the Oscars are not your normal, everyday event. But the man standing, still half asleep in the doorway, barely resembles the guy he's seen gracing the covers of magazines.

His usually well-coiffed bronze hair is longer, sticking up haphazardly all over the place, flopping over his forehead. The legendary jaw line that Marcus reads so much about is hidden under a short beard.

"You want to come down to the restaurant and have dinner with us?" Marcus asks. "There's a group of us. My wife Jane, and Bella, of course. It might be a good chance for you two to meet before shooting starts next week."

Edward nods, scrubbing at his face roughly. "Uh, yeah. Okay, sure. Just give me twenty minutes, yeah?"

"Sure, sure," replies Marcus. "I'll swing by and pick you up before I head down."

After Marcus leaves, Edward takes the chance to actually look at the spacious bungalow. It's beautifully decorated with dark wood, accentuated with gold and red materials. The south wall is completely made of glass, and looks out onto the sparkling Pacific ocean. But the centrepiece of the room is the bed. Draped in white gossamer, the enormous four poster bed is laden with huge fluffy pillows and a thick white comforter.

These rooms are obviously made to be shared, and Edward feels the sharp pain of longing, knowing that he has no one to share the bed with.

A quick shower and a new change of clothes is all he can be bothered doing. He contemplates cutting his beard, but it doesn't eventuate. Makeup will no doubt make him do it next week anyway.

Marcus is waiting outside when Edward steps out, and they chat aimlessly as they walk down towards the resort restaurant.

A long table has been set up by the beach, candles flicker along it's length as the table cloth billows in the late afternoon breeze.

"Edward, this is Jane, my wife. Jane, this is Edward," says Marcus, and Jane stands to shake his hand.

Edward is not surprised that Marcus' wife is as beautiful as she is. She has short blond hair, and a kind smile. She looks older than Marcus, maybe only five or six years, but there's a youth about her as she looks adoringly at her husband.

Marcus introduces Edward to the rest of the table, and Edward smiles and shakes their hands before he sits down beside Marcus.

"Bella is on her way down. Why don't you take a seat? Beer?"

"Please."

Marcus leans in closer to Edward, speaking quietly. "I heard about you and Tanya. I'm so sorry."

Edward shrugs and takes a long gulp from his drink. "It's fine."

Marcus can clearly see that he doesn't want to talk about it, and instead talks to him about the day they spent exploring the islands.

"Hey. Sorry, I'm late," says a quiet voice and Bella takes a seat across from Edward.

Marcus introduces the two of them and she reaches across the table to shake his hand.

Her fingers slip easily into his hand; they're long and thin. He can feel her bones through the skin of her hand.

The girl sitting across from him is not the girl he saw in the picture. But he can't deny that she's still beautiful, ethereal even as the sunset casts an orange glow over her pale skin. But she's slighter and more delicate, her eyes don't hold the vibrancy they did.

She can't keep her eyes off of him. He's barely recognizable behind the beard he's grown and she can't seem to stop looking at him.

She watches when he lifts his drink to his mouth, the way his lips curve over the rim of the bottle, the way his fingers grasp it gently.

She hears every sigh, and sees it every time he runs his hand through his hair. She catches him staring often, not at her, not at anything, just staring.

He watches the way she smiles when Jane speaks to her; he can tell they're close. They lean together when they talk, and she seems more at ease.

He itches to talk to her, to say something, but his voice just catches in his throat. He wants to make her laugh, to see her smile at him.

The sound of glasses clinking erupt around the table, and Marcus stands, his glass in hand as he makes a toast.

Everyone raises their glasses, and from across the table Edward catches Bella's eyes, shining in the light of the candles.

He smiles and she smiles back, shy and so beautiful.

The guests cheer and clink glasses and Edward can't help but smile back at Bella as she looks over the table at him.

He watches as she excuses herself for a moment and disappears back into the restaurant.

Marcus notices Edward's gaze, and leans in again. "I've known that girl since she was twelve years old."

Edward is surprised. "Oh?"

Marcus nods, grinning. "Her parents are my best friends. She and her brother Emmett spent practically all their summers at our place. Bella was there when Seth and Emily were born. She's like a daughter to Jane and I."

Edward hopes he doesn't over step the mark, but his curiosity gets the better of him. "She looks...sad?"

Marcus half groans, half sighs; casting a sidelong glance at Jane before he continues, lowering his voice.

"She had this boyfriend, James Handler - he was a loser and everyone knew it. But love blinds you I suppose. "

Edward watches as Marcus gulps down the rest of his scotch.

"A year or so ago he got into drugs - mostly pills and speed. It wasn't until Bella caught him stealing from her that she found out he'd gotten into the harder stuff, ice mostly."

A heavy feeling of dread sits deep in Edwards stomach as he listens. "He stole from her?"

Marcus nods. "Money mostly. But also some jewelry and even clothing - he sold it all. Anyway, her birthday last year, she came home to find him cheating on her. I don't know the details, she won't talk about it, I doubt it really even matters any more. But she threw him out, and that was it. We thought she'd done the right thing, thought it was the end of it."

Edward can feel himself inching closer to Marcus as he speaks.

"One day Bella was home alone and he turned up. He was out of his mind, so fucked up he could barely walk straight. He started screaming at her, telling her it was her fault that he cheated, and called her all sorts of names. She tried to push him out of the apartment, and he hit her."

Edward's eyes widen. "What? He hit her?"

Marcus quashes the rage that simmers under the surface, his jaw clenching and unclenching with the force. "He beat her until she was unconscious. I swear, if her brother hadn't turned up when he did, James would have beaten her to death."

A new feeling starts to creep into Edward's stomach, it seeps into his veins, pumping through his blood like venom - anger. Pure, unadulterated fury. Edward is not a violent person. He's never been in a fight in his entire life, except in primary school, and even then he's pretty sure he chickened out. But hearing Marcus tell Bella's story, a huge part of him wants to find James and make him pay. "What happened after that?"

"Nothing. Bella didn't want the press getting wind of what happened, don't ask me why. So she didn't press charges."

"You mean he got away with it?" hisses Edward, positively brimming with anger.

Marcus rolls his head from side to side. "Yes and no. She didn't press charges, but Emmett did beat the living piss out of him. "

"That's not enough!" pushes Edward, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair. "He can't get away with treating her like that."

"Believe me, I know, Edward. But, she's still stubborn as hell that girl. She gets that from her dad. Once she's decided something, that's it."

Edward sits back in his seat, taking big gulps of his drink to help calm himself.

Bella stands in the ladies restroom. Her skin is flushed.

It's the wine, she tells herself, smiling.

Did she just have a moment with Edward Cullen?

There's something soothing about his voice, not to mention his accent that is simply amazing. The way his mouth wraps around his words is mesmerizing. But there's also a sadness to him, she sees it in his eyes and the set of his mouth, in the slump of his shoulders.

Returning to the restaurant, she waits by the bar for her drink, flinching when she hears a familiar voice beside her. "Hello, again."

She turns to see Tyler. He's wearing the same clothes he had on earlier, no doubt he hasn't left the bar.

"Hello," she replies.

"You look lovely. That's a beautiful dress," he comments as his eyes land on her chest, his breath reeks of alcohol.

She forces a small smile, and tries to turn her body away from him, but he reaches out and takes her hand.

"Listen," he begins as she stares at his hand as it clutches hers. "I have a bottle of champagne back in my room. Why don't we go back there and have a quiet drink, just you and me?"

She furrows her eyebrows at him incredulously. "No, thank you."

He leers at her, pulling her closer. "I've seen you in those movies, you're always up for it. Come on, baby, I won't tell anyone. We could have some fun."

Bella tries to pull her hand from his gently, but he holds her tight, his other hand now latched on to her wrist. "No."

Tyler looks ready to start again, his mouth set stubbornly, when a voice comes from behind, and Bella turns to see Edward approaching. "Are you okay, love?" he asks.

Standing beside Bella, he places his hand protectively on her lower back. "Is there a problem?" asks Edward as he stands between Tyler and Bella.

"We were just having some fun. Weren't we?" slurs Tyler.

Bella curls instinctively into Edward's side.

"No, mate, you're not. She's here with me, okay? Why don't you just go back to your room and sleep it off?" Edward says, and Bella is surprised at the authority in his voice.

"Sure, no problem, man," says Tyler as he backs away, almost bumping into a waitress.

"Are you okay?" asks Edward, his hand still on her back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

His body is pressed gently to her side as he ushers her out of the restaurant, and she can feel the heat radiating from him.

Despite the situation, all Bella can feel his Edward's hand on her back as he guides her outside.

Edward's heart is still hammering in his chest as he stands beside Bella. He can barely even remember walking over, it was like his legs were on auto pilot, carrying him over to her.

"I'm okay," she says quietly. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

Edward frowns, watching as her dark hair falls in front of her face. "Of course he did. He's a guy. A drunk guy at that."

Again, as if by their own volition, his fingers move to her hair, tucking it behind her ear, and she looks up at him.

Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and he can see she is still uneasy.

"Do you want to take a walk on the beach?"

She looks down at her feet, and for a fleeting moment his heart sinks, thinking that she will refuse.

She looks up at him, and the look in her eyes makes his heart race again. "Okay," she says quietly.

The beach is lit with tall torches, their flames dancing in the soft ocean breeze as Bella and Edward walk side by side.

"It's so beautiful," she says as she looks out over the darkened ocean.

"It is," Edward replies as he watches the way her skin glows in the light of the torches.

It's been so long since Bella has felt this. The flutter in her stomach, the thrumming of her heart in her chest, the excitement and fear.

"I have to say, you look different in person than you do in pictures."

Edward chuckles. "If I don't have to shave, I don't. And anyway, I feel a bit less conspicuous like this."

"How's that working out for you?

"You know, not so well! I think a hat does about the same."

"Hmm," Bella muses. "You're lucky. I can't grow a beard to hide my face. So I have to suffice with big glasses and floppy hats."

Edward looks down at Bella, and his answering smile makes the butterflies in her stomach beat even faster.

"I don't think a beard would suit you, somehow," he says with another chuckle.

"No, I guess you're right," Bella concedes. "I'm really more of a moustache girl."

Bella almost doesn't recognise the sound of her own laughter as the two of them laugh loudly. Their laughter gives Bella the courage to ask something that has been on her mind all night.

"So who was she?" she asks, and his face falls a little.

"Who?" he asks.

"Whoever broke your heart," Bella replies, and Edward is stunned at her forwardness.

"A girlfriend," he says simply, and she nods. "We broke up two weeks ago. She was seeing someone else."

Bella can hear the pain in his voice; it's visceral, and it's real. She can feel it because she knows pain.

"How did you two meet?"

Edward blanches at the memory. "We met on set last year. She had a boyfriend at the time. I thought there was no way she would ever...that _we _could ever be together."

"But she left her boyfriend for you?"

He nods. "I thought that was it, you know? I thought she was the one for me."

Bella puts a reassuring hand on Edward's arm and his skin is soft and warm against her cool hand. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

He looks down at her hand on his arm. 'No," he says as he looks back up at her. "It's fine. It's supposed to be better to talk about it isn't it?"

Bella shrugs. "Supposedly. But sometimes it hurts too much."

Her hand still on his arm, Edward decides to be brave. "Marcus told me about what happened. About James."

Bella's eyes widen with shock. He knows. He knows how broken she is, damaged, wrong.

Edward senses her discomfort, and not wanting to pry, he continues. "Do you want to know the worst thing?" asks Edward as they continue to walk. "I knew. When she told me, surprise wasn't the first emotion I felt. I'd had this feeling in the pit of my stomach for weeks. I look back and I can see all of the little things I completely missed, like the idiot I was."

"Edward," says Bella firmly. "You're not stupid. She's the stupid one, stupid for letting something so wonderful go."

"I just..." Edward starts, but his voice catches in his throat. "It just hurts so much when I think about it."

Bella swallows her fear and taking a deep breath reaches out and takes his hand in hers. His heart rate spikes as she moves his hand towards her face. His fingers skim her cheek as she moves his hand under her ear, beneath her hair.

She presses his fingers to the base of her skull and he feels a lump, like a line of cartilage under her skin.

"Can you feel that?" she asks and all he can do is nod. His heart is hammering so fast he can barely speak.

"That's where he slammed my head against the floor. After that I blacked out. I have a scar under my eyebrow, and I need glasses to read because my left eye was damaged so badly."

The anger swells again inside Edward, but he pushes it back down, choosing instead to revel in the feel of her hair against his fingers.

"We all have scars, Edward. Some are just more visible than others."

He is so in awe of this woman. She looks frail, she looks broken, but he can see through that, and underneath is a strong, resilient woman.

She holds his hand against her head a little longer before she lets it go. His fingers trace her cheek lightly again and he wants to kiss her. So much.

She shudders slightly, and his hands instinctively cover her arms to warm her. "We should probably get back. Marcus will send out a search party otherwise."

They turn and Edward slowly slips a hand up her arm, his arm resting across her shoulders as they walk. He tells himself he's keeping her warm, but he knows he just wants to touch her.

"There you two are!" shouts Marcus as they approach, and Edward drops his arm from her shoulders. Her skin is cold against the night air after the loss of his warmth.

Marcus is drunk as ten men, and Jane has her arm around his waist as he walks. "I'm taking this one home. Edward, can you give me a hand?"

Edward slips his arm underneath Marcus' other arm, taking his weight as Jane and Bella follow behind them.

Bella smiles as Jane nudges her arm, grinning at her knowingly.

Edward helps Marcus inside and both he and Bella say goodnight to Jane.

"Well, I'm just down there," says Bella, pointing to a walkway that branches off to their left.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm over there," replies Edward pointing to their right.

Bella fidgets with the ends of her hair as they linger. "Goodnight, Edward," said Bella quietly.

"Goodnight, Bella," he replies and they turn their separate ways.

She lies in bed that night thinking about him. She can't understand why his girlfriend would want to see anyone else. He's kind, and he's gentle, not to mention ridiculously good looking.

That night she sleeps with the door open, the warm breeze floats in and she sleeps through the night for the first time in months.

"I hope you left some for everyone else," jokes Edward as he takes a seat beside Bella, watching her devour her second helping of breakfast. It's like a hunger has erupted in her, her body is craving the food it so dearly needs.

She turns to look at him and is so shocked she almost chokes on her scrambled eggs.

"Oh my goodness, look at you!" she says, reaching out to touch his bare cheek.

Without his beard he looks younger. His smile makes her heart flutter and her cheeks flush as she turns back, trying to concentrate on her breakfast.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks, pretending to be interesting in her juice.

"I did. Very well, actually. You?"

She nods. "Better than I have in a while."

Edward shifts uncomfortably in his chair, fidgeting nervously. "I was wondering," he says, fiddling with his fingers in a nervous habit. "Would you like to spend the morning with me?"

Bella's eyes widen, and she swallows the mouthful of eggs, nodding.

A dazzling smile greets Bella, and again, she has to look away as a blush creeps up her cheeks.

After a long breakfast, they spend the morning exploring the resort and its beautiful surrounds. They walk along the myriad of boardwalks that weave through the crystal clear water, and into the nearby town, stopping at the market stalls to browse.

He's impossibly funny, his dry English wit matches her acerbic Australian one. They share the same tastes in music, from acoustic to folk, Marling to Morrison.

Edward can't deny his attraction to her. She's so unlike any of the women he's met; she's smart with a dry sense of humour, but also unfailingly stubborn and quick witted. As messed up as his mind is, his heart knows that he's falling for her.

As they reach the resort, Bella realises she's not ready for the day to end. "Did you want to run some lines?" she asks, squinting up at Edward through the sunlight.

"Sure," he replies.

"Well, I'll just go back to my room and grab my script and meet you at your room?"

"Okay," says Edward and they smile at each other as Bella turns to leave.

Edward is amazed at how quickly things have changed. This time yesterday he felt like nothing could repair the damage done to his heart. But there, in the idyllic setting, he can feel it being mended, tiny piece by tiny piece.

His smile falters as he enters his room and looks around in horror. Like a mad man he rushes around throwing out soft drinks cans, picking up the clothes and shuffling the pieces of paper all over the coffee table.

There's a quiet knock on the door just as Edward finished putting his guitar away, and he turns to quickly make sure the room looks okay before he opens the door.

Her presence at his door is like a calming breath and his nerves dissipate as he ushers her inside, watching as she looks around his room.

He tries not to stare as she walks out onto his balcony. Her hair has a red highlight to it as she stands in the sunlight, and her skin is glowing and sun-kissed. Her legs are long and lean, and his fingers itch to touch the skin that peeks out above her shorts as she sits in the deck chair.

"Ready?" she asks, turning to him, and he has to shake his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

He nods and takes a seat beside her as they begin.

Bella marvels as he recites his lines, he barely stumbles throughout the entire read through, while she stutters and forgets hers more than once, and every time he just smiles and prompts her. She watches his long fingers move across the page, his hands look strong and sure as he follows the lines.

As they finish, the sun begins to set, throwing hues of bright orange and pink over the sky and the sand.

Edward wants to kiss her again, more than yesterday if it's possible.

He wracks his brain, coming up with a dozen ways to do it. He thinks about playing it cool, maybe sliding over to her and being smooth. But his habit for being tongue-tied in those kinds of situations makes sure that it usually ends badly.

"It's so beautiful here," says Bella as she stands in the sun. Her eyes are closed as she lets the warm Tahitian sun fall on her face. She feels it deep in her skin, all the way into her bones, warming her from the inside out.

Without thinking, Edward gets up and stands beside her.

Opening her eyes, Bella turns slightly to see Edward. His eyes rival the fire of the sky as he stares at her, and her heart begins to flutter lightly.

With the gentlest of touches, Edward slides his fingers across her cheek, travelling slowly from her cheekbone to her jaw line. Instinctively, Bella leans into his touch as his hand opens to cup her soft cheek.

Tentatively, he places one small kiss at the side of her mouth. Her skin is warm and soft, and he can feel her breath as his nose skims her cheek lightly. She smells like sun and tropical flowers as he breathes deep, filling his lungs with her.

Her skin tingles where his lips were, she suppresses the urge to lick the spot where they pressed against her, to taste him on her skin.

She tilts her head slightly, and she watches his eyes close slowly as his lips near hers again. Her mouth opens slightly and she can feel his breath wash over her as his lips press against hers.

It's soft, and tender and everything Bella never knew she wanted. With every kiss she feels a little piece of herself being put back together. As her fingers reach out, grasping at his shirt, Edward's hand traces the side of her face, travelling slowly down her jawline to her neck, where his long fingers wrap around her neck, the tips resting against her scar as he presses himself closer to her.

Finally, with a gasp, she opens her mouth, allowing Edward to deepen the kiss as his tongue meets hers, soft and tentative.

A soft moan escapes Bella's lips as she pressed herself tightly against Edward, his obvious arousal pressing against her stomach. His hands are gentle as they move down her arm, resting on her hip.

Breathing heavily, Edward rests his head against hers, the blazing green of his eyes meeting dark cocoa-coloured ones.

There's no awkward silence between them as they look at each other, their eyes saying everything their mouths can't.

Bravely, Bella takes Edward by the hand, pulling him towards the bed.

Any feelings of dread or fear are completely dissipated as Edward's fingers trace her neck, skimming lightly across her collarbone.

Her skin breaks out in goose bumps at his touch, and her need to feel him, to feel his body weight pressed against her, rises.

Slowly, she lifts Edward's shirt, and he raises his arms to let her drag it over his head. His pants follow, and then her dress and shoes.

Softly, Edward lowers Bella onto the white comforter, her dark hair contrasting against the material.

Edward's heart swells as his name falls from her lips. He worships her body, inch by inch, kissing every piece of exposed skin, devouring her whole.

He looks down at her, brushing the hair from her face. "It's been so long," she whispers shyly, biting her lower lip.

Edward shakes his head slightly. "If I'd known, I would have waited for you."

There are no fireworks, no whispers of unbidden love, simply the healing of two broken hearts, the give and take of two people learning, sharing, and exploring each other.

They lay contentedly, connected like magnets as they sleep.

Jane sits by Marcus at the breakfast table, enjoying the morning sun as it warms her back.

"I told you," comments Marcus as his eyes gaze over his morning paper.

Jane turns to see Bella and Edward, walking side by side. It's been so long since Jane has seen Bella look the way she does. Her spark has been reignited, and it glows from inside of her, from her eyes, from her skin, from her smile.

And Edward just basks in that glow, smiling like he's discovered the meaning of life.

Marcus raises an eyebrow at Jane as his hand extends in front of her.

Rolling her eyes, she reaches into her purse, extracting a twenty-dollar note. "Fine," she says, placing it in his hand.

Marcus leans over and kisses his wife on the cheek sweetly, and she smiles back at him.

"How did you know?" Jane asks inquisitively.

Marcus shakes his head, tapping his finger on his nose secretively. "Jane, my love. Part of heartbreak is learning to let go, sometimes people just need a little push."

"And you love to push, don't you, Marcus?" teases Jane.

Marcus chuckles. "I simply brought them to the same place. Fate drew them together, the converging of two half people, to make them whole again."

Jane sighs. "You're such a romantic old fool."

She chances one last look behind her, not wanting to draw too much attention, and smiles as she watches Edward place a simple chaste kiss on Bella's shoulder.

"But I think you're right."


End file.
